


She Needs Me

by TheAzureFox



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, I chased after this idea and oh boi do I regret, Sexual Content, Toxic Relationships, angst is bountiful in this piece, i s2g this is not pwp, major character deaths, rip my chaste soul, sex as a coping mechanism, which is why I gave into this idea in the first place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAzureFox/pseuds/TheAzureFox
Summary: It's better to say silent.(Ema x Akira w/ sexual content)





	She Needs Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna say 2 things before this fanfic starts:
> 
> 1: I am...a very chaste person (+ also ace) so I've just 100% ripped off the smut parts from what little I've seen in fanfiction bc I honestly don't want to bother with studying...that...in any detail
> 
> 2: this isn't meant to be straight-up smut bc I for the life of me don't want to write straight-up smut. Therefore, there is angst in this bc emotions yaaaaay~
> 
> That is all.

Darkness. A room lit only by the faintest of moonlight.

Ema feels lips trail down her neck and tries not to shudder. Hands run along her body, fingers streaming through her hair and then rummaging around to her chest with the need to  _squeeze_. Her own hands are feeling the muscles of a body so tensed with desire, combing through locks of blue as she enjoys the touch of him on her skin.

Akira has a way with making her excited. He knows her every sweet spot, knows how to make her writhe underneath him as his tongue slides along her skin. She moans as he presses against her, his lips falling upon her collarbone with light and yet somehow sensual touches. His fingers land on the zipper of her collar, greedy and eager and yet, even as his gaze of lavender lust falls upon her, he takes a moment to pause and stare at her eyes.

“May I?”

The woman gives him a coy smile, teasing him with an arch of her back as she presses her most sensitive spot against his. “I don’t know,” she says, lightly, as if the haze of her mind has not yet consumed her. “Can you?”

“ _Ema_ ,” his voice comes out like a whine, eager to receive approval as he stares down upon her like a puppy yet to be praised.

“Alright,” her eyelashes flutter. “I give you permission.”

He yanks down without hesitation, revealing a red t-shirt that cuts just below her chest and black panties that hide her most private of parts. Akira slowly, carefully,  _meticulously_ , sheds her suit from her skin. She laughs, allowing him to do so before allowing him to settle his eyes upon her top. Ema shakes her head, her own fingers curling around the edge of such fabric before she pulls the shirt over her head and lets Akira’s eyes settle upon a black bra that props up her breasts.

The man before her reaches back and unclips such an item, letting it fall to the floor as he beholds her skin with wide eyes. Ema giggles at such innocent-looking eyes, pressing herself forward until her chest is touching his. Her fingers raise up to begin unbuttoning the jacket of his uniform, all the while making sure that she rubs up and down against him with purposeful movements.

“E-Ema,” Akira sucks in a deep breath, his face turned an unabashed shade of red as he stares down and watches her movements like a child.

“ _Akira_ ,” she acknowledges with a tilt of her head, her voice lowered to a whisper that makes him shiver before her. “ _A-ki-ra._ ”

His jacket falls from his shoulders and, soon after, his shirt and tie. The sight of his skin before her makes goose bumps flourish on Ema’s own skin but it does little to keep her from tugging loose his pants. Akira watches her with fascination as she presses her breasts against him, fingers skillfully removing his trousers with teasing tugs.

This is not the first time she’s done something so lustful as this. She is practiced, a master in her craft as she watches a shape bulge from beneath Akira’s boxers. But, that is not to say that the man before her is without skill, either. They’ve been here in this room before many, many times and this is far from the first time they’ve performed sex with each other.

_Perform._

She tastes the word like it’s something bittersweet, a flavor so nostalgic that it almost hurts to swallow. She pauses for an instant and it does not take long for Akira to take over in her moment of hesitation, greedily pushing her down upon the bed as he begins to grope at her breasts. The woman shudders in delight, arching her back forward so as to be closer and closer to him. Together, they writhe, a mass of fluttering movements and hungry starvation as Akira places kisses along the fabric of her skin.

“I love you,” he says, a reverent plea that makes her moan, “I love you so much.”

She does not respond to such words. It is not because she can’t respond that she hesitates but because she can find no right answer. In the darkness of her room, it is better not to reply to such heart-wrenching words even as he pulls her panties down from her legs.

“Ema, I love you,” the man murmurs, pressed atop her.

She raises a hand to curl against his face but is stopped as he pushes into her. She cries out, startled, but cannot deny the pleasure she feels at such an action. She’s hot, sweating, and her arms are wrapped around him, nails digging into his skin as again and again he pushes himself into her. She feels heat blazing down her, the friction of his body against hers making saliva slip past red lips. She’s so consumed by his desire that she finds herself infatuated with it, letting him indulge in her as her Ema moves upwards to merge with him.

Then, as if a sudden thought has come to him, the man pauses in his activities and comes to a stand. Ema watches him, confused, but gradually comes to her senses as she watches his gaze fall upon a peculiar device. Lavender eyes watch a device of black sitting upon a nightstand, hands picking up his phone to observe the screen.

Disappointed, she manages to pull herself up and tries to chuckle at the mess they have made of her bed. She grabs her bra and panties and pulls them closer to her, peering at Akira with a soft smile on her face as she asks: “Your sister?”

“Yeah,” Akira’s gaze turns cloudy and he turns to her with an apologetic smile. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” she beckons him forward. “I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, Ema,” Akira picks up his clothes and begins dressing himself. He does not look at her as he does so, his gaze kept trained on her carpeted flooring as he manages to look like his usual self. “I’ll be leaving.”

“Alright,” she says, quiet, her voice a trained whisper.

“Goodbye.”

She watches him leave, the door closing behind him. She waits for a few minutes, contemplating the experience that leaves her aching for more, and then falls onto her bed. White moonlight spreads upon her skin, revealing her glistening nude body for the night sky to see. She breathes heavily, one hand underneath her head and the other shielding her eyes as she stares out into a ceiling absent of any light.

“Akira,” she tastes the name of the man on her lips. It is cold and lifeless, a name without meaning. But, to her, it is a burning fire which sears her heart whole. Her body burns with longing, burns with the notion of desire and a will to covet his touch against her. However, as much as she yearns for him, as much as he pleasures her with these visits, she can’t help but feel somewhat sinful. She is craving the touch of a man who could never be quite hers, craving the attention of someone she had no right to gratify herself with.

“A-ki-ra.”

Ema rolls over onto her side, the scent of him still clinging to her. Her bra and panties intertwine in her fingers but she has no mind to put them back on. Instead, she pulls herself to a sitting position, her hair cascading down around her as she stares into the darkness of the sky.

“Do you hate me?” She asks, quiet, as if speaking to herself. “You do, don’t you?”

There is no answer but, of course, she does not receive one. She does not expect to and nor will she ever. Such words were best spoken in the absence of company. It is only in the emptiness of the depraved little world she has created that Ema utters such words.

And, when the lust clears from her eyes she curls into herself and tries not to cry.

~~~

It is three days later when Ema next sees Akira. He stands at her doorstep and she lets him in without hesitation.

“How’s Aoi?” she offers as a pretense for conversation.

The man gives a half-hearted smile. “She’s fine.”

“Mm, good,” Ema leads him to her kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” he says, taking a seat. “Aoi made me breakfast already.”

“Alright,” she says, fishing up a plate of burritos sitting in her refrigerator and placing them in front of him. “Have these then. As a midday snack, of course.”

He nods, consuming such items without hesitation. She watches him in silence, unable to say a word as he wipes at his mouth with a napkin and faces her.

She takes his stoic expression with a soft smile. “Again?” she asks.

The man removes himself from his chair and approaches her. She watches him but does not stop him as he gently presses her against a wall, easing her against it as his lips press firmly against her own. His tongue slides against hers and he runs his fingers through her hair, gently pulling out her hair-tie and letting her pink locks fall over her shoulder.

His kiss is somehow sincere and yet also insincere, passion lingering on her lips as his teeth clash with hers. She eases quickly into his touch, threading her own fingers through cyan locks, but she would have to be a fool to not see the way Akira clings to her in heart-breaking eagerness.

“Careful!” She hisses, drawing back to wipe at her mouth as a thin line of red trickles down from her bottom lip. His teeth had scraped too hard against the spot, drawing blood in a rather sensitive area.

Akira’s eyes widen and then soften, a thumb brushing the miniscule wound as he nuzzles against her, his nose pressed against the bottom of her chin. “Forgive me,” he murmurs, desperation fixated in his voice. “Forgive me, Ema.”

She cups her hand against his cheek and pulls him away, gently, before leading him to her room. He obliges, following behind her as she slips into her room and settles atop her bed. She leans down, her back resting against her mattress as she presents herself to him. Akira wastes no time in falling down upon her, his gaze locked on hers. He straddles her, hands pressed to either side of her shoulders before reaching forward to brush a hand against her cheek. Ema leans into his touch, almost whimpering at such searing contact.

“I love you,” the man says, again. His fingers linger on her zipper. “May I?”

“You may.”

He pulls down and they fall into their normal routine, him shedding her suit and her clothing, and her pressing her bare skin against him, watching as he becomes flustered when she undoes his uniform. They’ve done this so many times that she moves without thought, allowing herself to be an offering presented at her best.

Akira inhales sharply as all her skin comes into view, easing her back down upon the bed before he positions himself and presses into her. Ema can’t help but squirm with excitement as she moans the man’s name out loud, her head consumed with desire as nails rake down his back.

“Aaaah, A-Akira,” she says, curling her legs around him and arching her back. “Y-Yes!”

As if driven to madness by her voice, his grip becomes greedy, his hands roaming over her body and anchoring onto her breasts. He presses in, firm, and then rubs his lower half against her in a slow, almost teasing way. Arousal floods her system, burning through her veins until she is almost in a trance, wanting to be closer and closer and closer and closer and…

 _Stop_. She shuts her eyes and the enchantment that’s hold over her breaks. Akira does not look at her but he still looks straight at her. His eyes widen and then he pauses in his movements to push his face against hers, dabbing her eyes with kisses.

“Ema, I’m sorry,” he presses his forehead against hers. “Ema, I love you.”

She nuzzles against him, unable to offer up a response as he lies atop of her. He pauses in his movements, his breathing heavy as his gaze treads past her.

Then, he sits up, suddenly at attention.

The woman offers a saddened smile. “Ah, again?”

Akira picks up his phone and gives her something like a smile. “Aoi needs me.”

She pauses, unsure. Then, with a resigned sigh, she waves him off. “Go,” she says. “I’ll be waiting.”

He doesn’t look at her as he gathers his outfit, putting his clothes back into place. Still, Ema watches him, silent but dutiful in her observance.

“Goodbye,” he says.

She echoes his words with a tilt of her head and a crack in her voice. “Goodbye.”

~~~~

Sunlight filters onto her face. It is an hour later when Ema arrives at the entrance to Aoi’s school, fully clothed and meandering through a stream of students. School has finished less than thirty minutes prior and Ema can’t help but watch wistfully as girls and boys pass with the smiles of innocence painted upon their faces.

“Yeah, I heard that boy – Fujiki, was it? - transferred,” a boy says, passing by Ema with a hand on the back of his neck. “Had to go to some school out in the middle of the boonies with a friend’s brother. Or, well, that’s what the rumors say.”

“Really? That boy did?” A girl giggles, peeking at Ema for a split second before returning to her conversation. “Quite a shame, he  _was_ quite handsome. I would have totally dated  _that_ if I’d got a chance!”

“You? No way!”

“Oh, totally!”

Ema’s gaze softens at such words, and she sinks atop her motorcycle.  _If only…_ Her gaze searches through the crowd, picking apart person by person until she finds the one she’s searching for. Her eyes pinpoint blue and she chuckles, driving forward to greet them.

“Akira!” She calls.

The man turns to face her, startled. “Ema?” His gaze turns cloudy. “What are you…?”

She sighs. “Come on, Aoi’s already left for the day. She already sent me a message saying that she has a study group later this afternoon.”

“Ah…was that why…?” Akira chuckles and then approaches her. “Well, do you mind if I ask you for a ride home then?”

Ema tilts her head. “Home?”

He smiles. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Akira…”

His smile only grows forced.

“ _Ema_.” He snaps. “I want to go home.”

She sighs. “As you wish.” She throws him a helmet and he catches it with ease. “Get on then.”

The man nods and approaches, climbing atop of her motorcycle and wrapping his arms around her waist. She gives him a sly look, gaze tossed back before she speeds them forward and across a cloud-painted sky.

~~~

They arrive at his apartment in the late afternoon, his jacket on his arm as he steps up flights of stairs. Ema follows behind him, lips pursued as she eyes the man who ascends closer to his apartment. Normally, an average person would use the elevator to move up fifty flights of stairs. Akira? Well, Akira made his way up to the 50th floor with some amount of stalling, waiting in an elevator for 45 floors before ascending the last five on his own. Ema watches him all the while, quietly noting the way his hands shake when he presses the elevator button and the way his stoic composure falters.

“Hey…” She says, softly. “You don’t…”

He doesn’t look at her as he responds: “I know.”

Their footsteps continue up red-carpeted stairs, silence lingering in their lapse of conversation. Ema’s tempted to fill the gaps, to address the tension left unsaid with laughs and giggles, but she knows better than to set Akira’s mind at ease. There are some things she can’t do to unburden him, to make him see he’s still important to the world. It hurts, it truly does, but Ema’s long since come to the conclusion there’s little she can do to keep him happy.

Finally, they reach the last floor, a golden “50” awaiting them as a single door await. Akira and Ema come to a stand in front of it, their gazes locked on the silver doorknob that beckons them forward.

“I…”

Ema watches as the man she knows reaches for the doorknob, fingers inches away from closing around it.

“I…”

She stays silent.

It’s better to stay silent.

“I…”

Akira retracts his hand as if he’s been struck and crumples to the ground, clutching at his face as his shoulders begin to shake. Ema doesn’t say anything –  _can’t_ – but instead she steps to his side and wraps her arms around him, nuzzling the underside of his chin. She runs her fingers through his hair, and then, when she sees the tears fall down his face, she rubs her thumb just underneath his eyes. He raises a hand up to meet her own and holds it against his cheek, pressing against her touch as he sobs.

“I miss her,” he says in a whisper stricken with a wave of emotions that has Ema’s eyes glistening.

“I know,” she murmurs. “Akira,  _god_ , I know.”

Time warps. Ema sits with Akira cradled in her arms, the two of them sitting as the truth weighs heavily on their hearts. Ema looks at the ceiling, wondering where the line between guilt and happiness is drawn.

She’s taking advantage of a man gone and broken. She knows that.  _He_ knows that. Still, they both partake in careful performances, side-stepping the truth with the pleasure they experience pressed against one another. The sex they partake in is merely a distraction: there is no  _love_ there is no  _passion_. Instead, there is only selfishness. Ema indulges herself in Akira, playing upon his desperation to satisfy her own lust for him. Akira, though perhaps less conscious for the reasons of their wrongdoings, takes up her body with the intent for distraction, heedless of the toxicity sparking between them.

They are merely tools of reassurance for the other. Ema feeds off her love for him, indulging in the knowledge that he is desperate to gratify her greatly. Akira, on the other hand, feeds off his lust to chase away the ghost of a sister who has long since disappeared.

Closing her eyes, Ema tries not to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Basic gist for this whole thing is that Aoi + the other six kids are dead and Akira is using Ema as a coping mechanism to distract himself from that fact. Ema, on the other hand, abuses his desperation for a distraction to have sex with him because she loves him and wants to make him happy (or, that's what she tells herself even though she knows better). This has gone on for quite some time and neither of them are over the fact that Aoi is forever gone from their lives.
> 
> Also, I have two possible endings I can envision from this...endeavor on both their parts. One is happy and the other is quite tragic (:Dc):
> 
> Happy-Goody Ending: Eventually, Ema and Akira get married and settle down. Ema gives birth to a baby girl with Akira as the father and Akira begins to pull himself together for their child. This child’s name is Aoi Zaizen and she lives to see her parents die of old age.
> 
> Rip Your Heart Out Kind of Tragedy Ending: Akira and Ema have a child named Aoi Zaizen. Akira pulls himself together and gets to watch little Aoi grow up and be a proud parent…until she gets killed at the same age and same time of year as his sister :3c


End file.
